Illustration: Imagine a support group for people who compulsively interrupt. Just as soon as someone in their presence begins to speak, they are helplessly compelled to speak at the same moment. Let's make a support group for them like Interrupters Anonymous. Now imagine they are at their national convention, and thousands of them from fifty states have gathered in a stadium to hear a speach by to be delivered by the world's first fully recovered interrupter. The air crackles with excitement, and nothing else, as thousands of interrupters shift nervously but silently in their seats. Then the speaker approaches the podium. Tension mounts. And as this miraculous personage purses his lips to utter the first consonant of his first syllable, thousands of voices fill the air in a deafening cocophony of chaos. The speake pauses, raises a hand, eventually restoring the silence. But as he draws breath to speak once more....

That's what its like in my head on the manic side. It's all there, or so it seems, and yet to try to utter it causes this surge of ideas to get stuck in the funnel of my brain. Particularly when I try to do this, post about me. I can post about you, without causing this, but not about me. I can read your poems, but can't show you mine. I'm a musician, I can play and sing any song who's voice I can become, but I can't do my own outside of my "closet." Not without this surge of ...anyone got a word for it?

It's excruciatingly difficult to tap out each word while the ten thousand others demand to be heard. And it isn't that I don't want to.

well, too much trembling and tremor now to want to keep going. (sqrlb8 hears a collective sigh of relief from his readers?)